


The Season is Calling

by PalenDrome (nerdherderette)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Kylo Ren, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anal Sex, Angst and Feels, Brendol Hux's A+ Parenting, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Knotting, Kylux Titleception, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Moon, Non-Linear Narrative, Omega Armitage Hux, Religious Fanaticism, Rimming, Speciesism, True Mates, Werewolf Hunters, Werewolf Kylo Ren, Xeno, benarmie, blink and you miss it mention of mpreg, no actual mpreg though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-18 05:57:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18114695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdherderette/pseuds/PalenDrome
Summary: When Armitage Hux woke up this morning, he never imagined that his eighteenth birthday would be spent like this: running through the woods with his clothes torn, slick between his legs, gun long-forgotten.





	The Season is Calling

**Author's Note:**

> **About the Tags:**  
>  This is a werewolf, A/B/O fic. The dub-con tag is in place because of the nature of alpha-omega dynamics, and because there is a heat scene that leads to sex. The homophobia tag relates to referenced prejudices regarding alpha-alpha relationships.
> 
> I did not tag the story as underage as sex occurs when both characters are eighteen. However, there is a moment that may be constured as Hux's sexual awakening as well as a brief kissing scene that occurs when Hux and Ben are twelve and thirteen, respectively.
> 
> Thank you mods for organizing such a fun fest, and a heap of thanks to [abschiedamore](https://abschiedamore.tumblr.com/) for the beta. Your input, especially regarding the ending, made this so much better <33  
> *The lovely [niibeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niibeth/profile) drew an _amazing_ piece for one of the scenes and was kind enough to allow me to include it here. Check out some of her other pieces on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Kortesku) ❤️  
> **All remaining mistakes are my own

 

* * *

When Armitage Hux woke up this morning, he never imagined that his eighteenth birthday would be spent like this: running through the woods with his clothes torn, slick between his legs, gun long-forgotten.

A roar shatters the silence, causing his heart to slam against his ribs. The moon hangs high above; it’s a Super Blood Wolf Moon, and it’s unnerving how large it is, with the way its orange-saturated edges dip below the trees. Normally, Hux would find its brightness daunting when he’s being chased, but he knows that in this case, it doesn’t matter. That the predator who’s just several steps behind can track him by the blood on his hands or the fear that emanates from his skin.

He trips over something—likely a rotting root, given the way it catches then stretches before snapping under his feet. The lurching movement causes him to startle out of his flight-or-fight state, and suddenly he’s aware that his clothes are not just damp from his exertions. That whoever—or whatever—is behind him must be able to scent the spicy-sweet slick that’s causing his pants to stick.

 _Fuck. It_ can’t  _be—_

The horrifying realization is quickly squashed when something barrels into his back, crushing him to the forest floor and knocking out his breath.

**oOo**

“Happy birthday, Armitage. Are you ready for this?”

Hux glances at the Safari Magnum his father hands him, the controlled feed, fixed ejector, and barrel size perfect for taking down its intended target. He looks up, trying yet failing to meet his father’s gaze. Brendol Hux is the most famed hunter in Arkanis County, a man who weaned his only son on polished walnut and 4150 steel from the moment Hux could clench his chubby fist.

The bedtime stories of Hux’s childhood have since been traded for days spent with gunpowder under his nails and the acrid smell of brimstone and ash. He's become particularly skilled in capturing small prey, but the large ones still give him pause. Perhaps it’s their eyes—as soulful and cunning as any human’s, backed by a ferocity and strength that’s unmatched.

Hux feels someone nudge his flank. “Answer your father, Armitage,” Rae murmurs out of the corner of her mouth, delicate brow furrowed.

Brendol’s eyes narrow at Hux’s silence. “Armitage! I asked you a direct question!”

Hux tries not to flinch. It’s not so much his father’s words but their tone, dripping in disappointment and anger. As if any hope for redemption has all but died out, the promise of honor and revenge snuffed because of a pale, delicate boy who also happens to be an omega.

“I am, sir. Born ready, sir,” Hux responds. He doesn’t miss the smirk that appears on several of the hunters’ lips at his declaration.

Brendol presses his mouth into a thin line.

“This is not a game, boy. The Skywalker heir’s powers will be at their peak, fueled by the full moon. It is also mating season for the weres, and we’ve reason to believe that tonight is the night Kylo Ren will claim his intended.”

“Filthy,” someone spits.

“The devil’s abomination,” hisses another.

Brendol’s lips curl into a sneer. “Any remaining caution will be replaced by Ren's biological urge to breed. His pack will do everything to ensure that this happens. If we kill Ren, we’ll destroy the Skywalker line, leaving the rest of the weres leaderless and ripe for slaughter.”

A palpable excitement fills the cabin. “Death to all the weres!” a woman shouts. “Make Arkanis strong again!”

“The season is calling, my fellow hunters. Kill Kylo Ren, and his death shall be our salvation. May righteousness be our strength. May glory be our way. May the blood of those who have fought before protect us from such sin.”

As Brendol prays for their safety and success, Hux wishes the words were meant for him. If he listens hard enough, he can almost convince himself that they’re said as a hope for his well-being and not to preserve the battered remains of his family’s legacy.

**oOo**

The creature’s breaths are hot and wet against Hux’s neck. Saliva drips onto the strip of skin that’s exposed above his collar, a repulsive mixture of sticky and wet, and if there was a way Hux could remove himself from its downward trajectory, he would.

But he’s pinned against the ground by what feels like over two-hundred fifty pounds of sheer muscle _._ Hux tries to slow his breaths, to fight against the panic that’s surging through his chest, the bile that rises from his gut. He remembers Rae’s words—that weres can sense emotions like panic and anger and arousal.

Apparently it doesn’t work because when he wriggles instinctively, the creature lets out a ferocious roar. Its razor-tipped hands land on either side of Hux’s face, forcing him to inhale a lungful of detritus while it cages him between its hairy forearms.

“Fuck,” Hux whimpers, unable to help himself. The pointed end of a branch digs into his calf, and there’s the faint taste of copper from where he’s bitten his lip. “Please don’t hurt me,” he croaks out, his face heating as he begs.

There’s a moment of silence. Hux takes a painful breath and then he’s flipped over, his jaw dropping in surprise.

The creature is truly massive. Although Hux is lean, he’s over six-feet tall and the were  _still_ manages to dwarf him. And it’s not just the creature’s height—it’s the sheer breadth of it, the solidity of its massive chest and powerful thighs. Its fangs are long and curved, bolstered by sharp teeth and a strong jaw, framed by thick lips from which a massive tongue protrudes, glistening with spit.

It’s the kind of predator that can kill with a quick snap of its jaw. Hux wonders if his father would mourn his death, or whether he’d greet the news with ill-concealed relief.

The werewolf cocks his head. Its eyes are luminous—otherworldly, the color of whiskey and gold. It lets out a whine as its tongue darts out, licking a sticky stripe along the length of Hux’s neck, more careful and tender than nearly anything Hux can remember.

“You—” His next words are swallowed as the werewolf licks again, this time more forcefully, concentrating on the juncture between Hux's neck and his collarbone where his pulse is thundering, nerves alight from the touch.

“Fuck,” Hux moans, his hips rolling instinctively. The were lets out a growl that almost sounds  _pleased,_ and when it lowers its body to cover Hux’s its cock rubs up against Hux’s half-hard prick, which swells in response.

The flush that spreads through Hux’s body at the sensation is instantaneous. His skin feels on fire, and as the creature growls and drags his cock along Hux’s leg, the pressure causes Hux’s heart to speed up not in fear, but anticipation.

There’s still a portion of Hux’s consciousness that knows this isn’t right, but it’s being quickly overtaken by his hindbrain. “No…” he whimpers as the creature growls his displeasure, claws edging close to Hux’s shoulders.

An embarrassing gush of slick drips from between his legs. Hux knows that his heat isn’t due for nearly another month; he keeps track of the dates meticulously, since he’s never been on suppressants. Brendol never condoned the use of artificial means to deal with an alpha’s rut or an omega’s heat, stating that any person worth their salt should be able to withstand the physical distress without them.  _Mind and morality,_ he had pounded into Hux,  _are the keys to quelling one’s most base desires._

But even though it’s not supposed to be his time, there’s no question of the wetness that’s seeping through the fabric of his pants, or the way the were’s nostrils flare, its mouth spreading into a toothy grin as it howls victoriously in response.

The creature flips Hux onto his belly. There’s a tearing sound as the material of Hux’s coat and pants are shed, the buttons of his shirt pop, and the fluid leaks copiously from Hux’s ass as the were nudges his thighs apart.

 

 

**oOo**

“Are you new around here?”

Hux takes a look at the boy. He’s not like anyone Hux has ever seen; he’s taller than most, for one, but the way he moves is strange, as if his limbs somehow have a mind of their own, at odds with the rest of his body. His face is unusual as well, long of nose and jaw, hair thick and dark, and eyes strangely expressive.

“Not really. We moved here when I was one. But before that, we lived in Corellia—not that I can remember.”

“Huh. I’ve never seen you before.” The boy sticks out his hand, a shy grin on his face. “I’m Ben. My family’s lived here forever.”

“I’m Armitage. My friends call me ‘Armie.’” The lie catches in Hux’s throat; the only person who ever calls him that is Ms. Sloane, but ‘Armitage’ seems so stuffy, especially when compared to a name like ‘Ben.’ He shakes Ben’s hand, which is unusually large and strong. “I’m twelve; I go to Arkanis Academy.”

“I just turned thirteen. I go to Jocasta...you know, the Jedi Academy?”

Hux wrinkles his nose as he lets go of Ben’s hand. “That’s not a real school.”

The tips of Ben’s large ears flush. “Of course it is! My uncle teaches there.”

“Really? So is that what you’re going to be when you grow up? A teacher like him?”

“I’m going to be a leader,” Ben says, puffing out his chest. “What about you?”

“I’m going to be a hunter.”

Ben's lips form a round _'O.'_ "What are you going to hunt?” Ben asks after a pause.

Hux shrugs. “Creatures. The dangerous ones. I come from a long line of hunters; my father is one of the best around.” Hux stands up as tall as he can and draws up his thin chest, frustrated when the move still puts him several inches short of Ben.

“Doesn’t seem like something to be proud of,” Ben says slowly. “It’s a coward who hides behind a gun.”

Hux lets out an indignant huff. “Is that so? So how would you fight, then?”

“With speed and strength and smarts. I’d control my surroundings so it feeds my power, like during the cycles of the moon. In fact, it’s one of the things I’m learning to do in school.”

“What a bunch of baloney,” Hux snorts.

Hurt and anger flash across Ben’s face. “Take that back.”

“Make me,” Hux taunts, taking off in a run. He’s fast, despite his spindly legs, but Ben is even faster. They’ve barely made it to the edge of the pond when Ben tackles Hux from behind. His chest collides with the earth, literally leaving him breathless as the tall grasses that rim the water’s edge tickle his face.

“I told you,” Ben says, only slightly panting as they continue to tussle. Hux manages to kick out from underneath, nearly throwing Ben off, but Ben rolls Hux onto his back and straddles his hips while pinning Hux’s arms overhead “See? Faster. Stronger. Smarter.”

Hux tries to buck him off, but to no avail. “It doesn’t matter,” he says, his face blotchy and red. “I’m an alpha; when I come of age, I’ll be as strong as you.”

Ben’s eyes cloud over. “You’re an alpha?” He leans in, and for one heart-stopping moment, Hux thinks Ben is going to  _kiss_ him. But he moves past Hux’s mouth in favor of the scent gland near Hux’s shoulder. There’s a sharp inhale as Ben takes a long, slow sniff. Hux squirms, and suddenly he’s all-too-aware of the way Ben sits atop his thighs, the warmth of their bodies seeping through the material of their jeans.

Ben hums and sits back up. “We’ll see,” he says with a satisfied expression.

Hux tries not to think about the emptiness he feels when Ben clambers off and plops down beside him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks. He sits as well and brushes several stray blades of grass from his hair. “Every man in my family has always been an alpha.”

“I’m just saying that sometimes, not everything works out the way it’s expected to.”

Hux frowns. “Well, we’ll find out soon enough.”

“It doesn’t matter if you’re an alpha, beta, or omega, anyway. It doesn’t change who you are.”

 _Tell that to my father,_ Hux thinks. “What do you do around here for fun?” he asks, changing the subject.

“Run. Read and write. You?”

“Hiking’s cool. I like to read, too.”

“And hunt.”

“I hunt. I never said I liked it,” Hux mutters.

Ben picks up a pebble and skips it over the smooth surface of the pond. “Why do you insist on doing it then, if it makes you unhappy?”

**oOo**

The werewolf nudges the inside of Hux’s thighs with his muzzle, pushing them wider. The temperature is near-freezing, but between his heat and the creature’s size, Hux feels as if he’s crawling out of his skin.

“Fuck,” he moans, sweat already building along his brow. His cock is swollen, his balls tight, and he bites out a sound of frustration because all he wants to do is to stroke his dick and fuck into his fist to relieve some of the ache.

There’s a snuffling noise as a cold nose presses against the cleft of his ass. The wetness causes Hux to yelp and rock his hips forward, which brings on a snort from the were. It nudges its head underneath Hux’s hips, pushing impatiently.

Hux turns and glares. He’s already been tossed about like a rag doll, but the creature pays his displeasure no heed, lifting and arranging Hux’s buttocks so he’s presented and splayed like an advertisement for some heat house hooker.

“Jesus.” Hux squeezes his eyes tight. He’s humiliated—practically naked, the remnants of his pants and coat strewn about his feet.

Paws thump behind him. Hux squawks as the were’s tongue, rough and wet, suddenly licks a trail from the base of his balls to his ass.

“Holy shit,” he whimpers, shame suffusing his skin. He lurches forward but his movement is stopped by the were, who buries its nose between his cheeks.

Even though it’s filthy and debased, Hux can’t help the noises that build, rising in pitch as he grinds against the mouth that’s lapping at him voraciously. The were lets out a contented purr, causing the heat that’s pooling into Hux’s groin to spread to his belly and dick.

“Ahhh..ah, fuck, _yes,”_ Hux whines as the licks grow more insistent. The air is filled with the scent of their sex, the sweet, syrupy spice of his slick mixed with the earthy musk of the wolf’s. A wave of lust shudders through him and it must excite the were even more, because it positions Hux so his back arches into a graceful bow, knees digging into the ground, thighs spread to allow a slobbery, thick, and determined tongue to breach his rim.

Hux wails at the intrusion, his cries echoing through the forest. He pushes back, hips gyrating, pink cock bouncing painfully as he tries to get the were—the big, strong, powerful, and capable  _alpha—_ to fuck him deeper with his tongue. There’s a horrible ache, a desperate need to be filled, and Hux can’t believe how quickly he’s been reduced to worshipping some alpha’s dick, to dreaming about being knotted and bred, to fully give in to his pleasure and just  _submit._

It’s possible that he might have voiced these desires out loud, because the were lets out a triumphant howl that pierces Hux’s lust-filled haze. The dank, wintry earth fills his nose as his head is pushed lower to the ground and two paws scrabble somewhere behind him.

The loss is unbearable. Hux spreads himself wide in an effort to present himself. He knows his hole is wet, can feel how the muscles that circle its rim are slack from the creature’s ministrations and the pheromones coursing through his blood, his heat and the smell and presence of  _alpha_ making him scream for its knot.

His eyes roll, and the last hold on his restraint falls as Armitage Hux, scion of famed and feared Brendol Hux, begs to be taken and filled like a broodmare.

“Fuck me. Fuck me alpha, _please.”_

When the head of the were’s cock plunges into him, stretching him out with its length and breadth, it’s all Hux can do to hold back his sobs of relief.

 **oOo**  

“Yes!” Hux exhales, arms stretching overhead as he releases his lower lip from where it’s been pinned for the last several minutes under the line of his upper teeth in concentration. It’s only taken him half an hour to finish a math packet he’s sure the rest of his classmates are still laboring on. But whereas the quick finish might have stoked his pride a month ago, his giddiness now is for a completely different reason.

It’s been three weeks since he first met Ben, and they’ve spent nearly every weekday together since. Unfortunately, the weekends are reserved for father-son ‘bonding time,’ although Hux hopes their hunting expeditions might eventually include Ben.

In fact, his father is out right now doing what he does best: fortifying Arkanis’ boundaries and training his army of specialized hunters. The shorter days of autumn mean Hux’s time alone at home is dwindling, and he finds himself wishing for the long days of summer for quite another reason.

Just like clockwork, Ben knocks on Hux’s door at exactly four.

“Hey.” Hux sticks his head out. There’s no sign of any vehicle, just Ben. “One of these days, you’re going to tell me how you get here.”

“I told you,” Ben says with a goofy grin. “I run.”

Hux narrows his eyes.

Ben laughs. “One of these days, you’ll believe me. Now are you going to let me in, or not?” He’s practically bursting at the seams as he clutches something in a clear, cellophane wrap.

“What is that?” Hux asks, unable to hide his interest.

“I found it at The Cantina. It was hidden behind some cookbook. Look,” he says, brandishing a comic. The yellows, reds, and blues on the cover place it somewhere in the ‘60’s. _“Space Family Robinson_! How cool is that?”

Hux shrugs, mildly disappointed. “I guess? I mean, it’s old and probably rare, so yeah...awesome find and all. But if you want old, I’ve got something even better.” He tugs on Ben’s wrist, ignoring his pout as he leads him up to his bedroom. After Ben takes his normal spot at the foot of Hux’s bed, Hux places a leather-bound book that he’s pilfered from his father’s library in front of him. It’s old—older than Ben’s comic, that’s for sure—but it’s so well-taken care of, the edges still contain their gilding.

 _“The Book of Were-Wolves,”_ Ben intones. He looks pissed all of a sudden. “So what?”

Hux lets out a huff as he sits down beside him. “This is over a hundred-and-fifty years old!”

Ben’s expression wavers. “Fine.”

As they flip through the pages, Ben shifts, a hurt sound leaving his throat.

“What’s wrong with you?” Hux asks crossly. “Don’t you want to see?”

“This...I was hoping this would be, uh, more informative.”

“It’s one of the most sacred texts on Lycanthropy. Of course it’s informative.”

“But it’s all  _wrong.”_

Hux looks at Ben, perplexed. “What do you mean?”

Ben points to a passage in the fifth chapter. “Well, according to this, werewolves are followers of the devil. They’re evil and blood-thirsty, killing animals and people at random. If weres are part human and part wolf, why can’t they have the good in both? Why do they have to make them so horrible?”

Hux jumps as Ben slams the book shut. “Just because it’s horrible doesn’t mean it’s not true!”

“It’s bullshit!” Ben roars, his voice seething in a way the roils Hux’s gut.

Hux stares. “Relax,” he says as he takes the book away slowly. “You’re acting like it’s personal.”

Ben’s nostrils flare, his mouth working as if to fight the words he can’t hold back. “Maybe it is."

“Okayyy...” Hux drags out the last syllable, then places the book under his bed for safekeeping. His father will _kill_ him if anything happens to it. “Um, honestly? You’re kind of freaking me out.”

Ben heaves a long sigh. “Do you like me, Armie?” he asks softly.

Hux’s eyes widen. Ben looks uncertain and vulnerable, traits that are at odds with his normally confident and easy-going nature. “I don’t make it a habit of hanging out with people I _don’t_ like, you know?”

Ben rolls his eyes as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Not disliking me isn’t the same as _liking_ me.”

“You’re my friend. That means I _like_ you. In fact, I like you so much, you’re the only friend I’ve ever invited over to my house.” There’s not many people whose company Hux tolerates in general, but that seems to matter little as a huge smile breaks over Ben’s face.

“Good.” The unabashed happiness in Ben’s eyes causes Hux’s face to heat in response. “And as friends, we can tell each other anything, right? No matter what?” When Hux nods, Ben takes a seat in front of Hux. He takes a deep breath as Hux watches warily. “I’m going to tell you a huge secret. I am one. A werewolf, that is.”

There’s no tick of a smile, no crinkle of Ben’s eyes when he exhales to indicate he’s joking. “Hah. Good one,” Hux squeaks, his voice faint.

Ben runs his hand through his hair. For the first time, Hux realizes how thick and glossy it is, just like a wolf’s pelt. “I’m serious, Armie. I wouldn’t joke about something like this. Think about all the things you know about me, and you’ll know I’m telling you the truth.” He takes Hux’s hand and places it over his heart.

Hux purses his lips. It’s bad enough that Ben’s an alpha, but an alpha werewolf to boot? “If that’s the case, we’re destined to be enemies."

Ben swallows. The line of his neck is ridiculously long; it’s like he’s going through some crazy growth spurt, his body and face shifting into something that’s too large, too mature for a typical thirteen-year old.

“I could never be your enemy, Hux. I would die before I hurt you.”

Hux looks away. “You can’t fight politics or biology.”

“Do you think I’m going to let some label define me? I don’t care if we’re both alphas, or if your father thinks werewolves are agents of the devil. That doesn’t change the way I feel about you.”

Hux knows it’s a dangerous line he’s crossing, but he can’t help himself. “And how, exactly, _do_ you feel about me?”

“Like I was meant to find you that day. Like we were meant to be together, forever.”

Hux isn’t sure who moves first, but suddenly his fist is smashed between both their chests as they collide in a fumbling kiss. It’s forceful and awkward enough to bruise, the angle slightly off and filled with teeth. He’s never kissed anyone before, nevermind another alpha, but there’s something so desperate and needy and _right_ about the way Ben feels, smells, tastes, that Hux knows it’s something special.

“Wow,” he whispers when they finally pull apart, face pink and lips swollen.

“Yeah. Wow,” Ben agrees, his mouth spread in a toothy smile.

The noise of a car coming up the street makes the hairs on Hux’s head prickle. He glances at his laptop; it’s already half past four. “Fuck,” he curses as they scramble to their feet. “That’s my dad. You have to get out of here. If he even suspects you’re a werewolf—”

“I’ll win him over with my charm. Before you know it, he’ll be inviting me over for dinner.”

Hux gives Ben a watery smile. “Maybe some other time. My dad’s a ‘shoot first and ask later’ kind of guy. Trust me.”

Ben cups Hux’s chin. “Okay. But even if he’s not ready now, I’m not going anywhere. We’ll turn him around.”

The sound of gravel spitting underneath a set of heavy tires interrupts Hux’s response. “You’ve got to go! Hurry!” He pushes Ben towards the back entrance of the house as the truck’s door closes. Once Ben is safely outside, Hux rushes back to his bedroom, flopping down on the bed just in time as his father enters.

He suppresses a shiver as his father surveys the room.

“Armitage. Did you finish your school work already?”

Hux scrambles off the bed. “Yes, sir. It was easy; I learned that section weeks ago. Hi, Miss Sloane,” he greets the second visitor, giving her a small smile.

“You always were a smart one, Armie,” she grins.

“More like they’re not challenging him enough,” Brendol says curtly. “Best not to let yourself get too cocky, boy. Pride and vanity are often the precursors to one’s downfall.” He turns on his heel when his toe catches on something on the ground. “What’s this?”

Hux’s face pales as his father holds up Ben’s comic book. “A friend lent it to me. It’s, um, a space fantasy. A lot of the alphas at school are reading it.”

A look of distaste crosses Brendol’s face. “I don’t know what they’re teaching kids nowadays, but no self-respecting alpha would waste their time on fairy tales and make believe, nevermind ones that take place in space.” Hux winces as his father waves the comic book around. “These aren’t the kinds of alphas I want you hanging around, the ones that act like betas or omegas. People will talk. It’s... _unnatural.”_

Hux hangs his head. “I’ll give it back tomorrow.”

“Make sure you do. And while we're at it, you should be spending more time with some real omegas, too. It might be a couple of years before you present, but it’s never too early to begin making the right connections.” His father makes a move to give the comic back to Hux, but at the last moment something catches his eye. Something that causes his grip to tighten.

“Where did you meet this alpha? Does he go to Arkanis Academy with you?” Brendol asks, his voice dangerously low as the magazine crumples under his fist.

“Nooo…” Hux flinches at the look of unabashed disgust that radiates from his father and thinks quickly. “He’s visiting family in the area. I was going to invite him over this weekend; I thought maybe we could all go hunting together—”

“You do that, boy,” Brendol says, his words thick and laced with anger. “I’d love to kill me a werewolf.”

Hux doesn’t have to feign the shock or fear that washes through his body. “What?”

“Your ‘friend’ is a damn were!” Brendol snarls. He points to the upper right hand corner of the magazine where Ben has written his name, and next to it, a symbol that looked like a sword surrounded by the mirror image of a wolf’s mane. “I thought my own son would have more sense than this. If you ever have contact with that filthy beast again, I will put a bullet in him and burn him at the stake myself.”

Hux closes his eyes. He’s _not_ going to cry in front of his father, he’s _not…_

“Get a hold of yourself, Armitage. Stop your ridiculous behavior, and act like the leader you were meant to be.” His father throws him one last furious glare before stalking out.

After an uncomfortable silence, Rae finally speaks.

“It’s not just the fact that your friend is a were.”

Hux rubs his eyes with the heel of his hands. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, Ms. Sloane,” he says angrily.

“Your friend belongs to the Skywalker clan. That’s what that symbol—the one he drew next to his name—represents.”

Hux turns towards Rae. “Who are the Skywalkers?” he asks, sniffling.

The bed dips as Rae sits down and places an arm around Hux. He looks up, grateful for her warmth.

“When your family first came to Arkanis, we were in the midst of a war with the Geonosians. The Skywalkers had lived in Arkanis for centuries; they were an incredibly powerful pack, and many courted their favor.

“The alpha of the Skywalker clan was a fierce warrior named Anakin. Your father was already making a name for himself for his ability to recruit hunters to Arkanis’ cause, but the truth is that no matter how prepared we were, the Geonosians had us beat. They had an army of werewolves on their side; with their sheer numbers, reproductive powers, and superhuman strength, there was no way we could defeat them _and_ the Geonosians. So your father persuaded the village council to make a last-ditch effort to sway Anakin.”

“He did?” Hux wipes his nose on the back of his hand. He had no idea that his father had any political aspirations.

“Yes. Not only that, but he was the one who ultimately went to try to persuade the Skywalker alpha.”

“So what happened? Was he unsuccessful? Is that why he hates them so much?”

Rae lets out a tired sigh. “I almost wish he had been,” she says, laying a hand on Hux’s head. He lets himself lean into her touch, and she fingers the fine strands of his hair, eventually letting her hand rest on the nape of his neck. “He _was_ successful, though. He convinced Anakin that his isolation could not last forever, and that joining forces would strengthen Arkanis’ boundaries. It was a compelling argument, especially since Anakin’s daughter had just given birth to his grandson. Concern for the safety of his family, as well as the promise of a leadership role in Arkanis, caused him to accept the agreement.”

“So Father got what he wanted.”

“He did. And along with his dedication to the development of an elite group of hunters and Anakin’s support, they decimated the Geonosian troops in just seven months.”

Hux looks up at Rae. She’s wearing a faraway look, and something about it appears wistful. Painful.

“I hear a ‘but’ in there,” Hux says eventually.

Rae gives him a wan smile. Her hand drops to her side, and Hux mourns her soothing touch. “Despite what your father would have you believe, omegas can be just as powerful, if not more powerful, than alphas. Anakin’s mate Padme convinced him that his participation would only bring more fighting and bloodshed in the future—something she was desperately against, especially with their growing family. After the Geonosians’ surrender, Anakin withdrew his support, and the Skywalkers went back to their isolationist ways.”

“So Father considered it a betrayal?” Hux asks, scrunching up his nose.

“The betrayal came after. The news of Anakin’s withdrawal spread like wildfire. There were quite a few survivors on the Geonosian side; several regrouped, many fueled by vengeance, others because they had little left to lose. Either way, they attacked the person they believed to be the cause of their misfortune. The one who convinced Anakin to join with the Arkanisians in the first place.”

A sickening coldness fills Hux’s gut. “Oh my god. My father.”

Rae nods. “But the Geonosians were pathetic and cowardly. They knew your father was skilled, his weapons much greater than theirs. So they set their sights on that which was the most vulnerable. That which would hurt him the most: his wife, and his newborn son.”

This time, Hux doesn’t try to hide his tears. He knows it’s impossible to have remembered his mother, who died when he was but a babe. But he’s always felt drawn to her—more than he ever has to his father, who often looks upon him with censure and disgust.

“Armitage—when the Geonosians came for your family, they came with several weres. The beasts were fully shifted, practically feral. Your mother made a quick decision: she swaddled you in another child’s linens to mask your scent and handed you over to her most trusted friend. It was the hardest thing she ever had to do, but being an infant, you would not have stayed quiet.”

“It was you, wasn’t it? You’re the one who took me to safety?” Hux gripped the sheets of his bed, his nails biting into the palms of his hands through the thin fabric. “She sacrificed herself for me.”

“Don’t you dare blame yourself,” Rae says fiercely, her eyes flashing. “It was a calculated risk. If the two of you stayed together, there was no question the Geonosians would have captured you both. Separately, there was a chance that you _and_ your mom could survive.”

“But she didn’t,” Hux says dully as he looks up.

Rae lets out a long breath. “No, darling. She didn’t. She…” Her complexion pales. “Your father was beside himself when he learned the news. There...there was no question that she died at the hands of a were, given her injuries. Her death, and the fact that your father laid the blame solely on Anakin, set him on a lifelong crusade. A crusade to rid the earth werewolves, especially those from the Skywalker clan.”

“Ben—my friend. He’s not like that.” He takes Rae’s hand in his and squeezes, trying to make her believe. “He’s _good,_ I know it. He’s been nothing but good to me. In fact, he’s the best friend I’ve got.”

Rae shakes her head. Her eyes are filled with pity, and somehow, that makes Hux feel ten times worse.

“If you care about your friend, you’ll never contact him again. Being a werewolf _and_ a Skywalker? Your father will not only make it his mission to kill him, it will be done with vengeance and in the most horrific way possible.”

**.o.**

“Hux. I know you’re there; I can  _hear_ you.”

Ben’s practically growling, and Hux berates himself for not realizing what he is sooner. He’s spent the last week researching werewolves—knows that they can sense things, read people’s emotions through their heartbeats and their scent.

He pulls his knees close to his chest, trying to keep his voice from quavering. Ben’s been like this, outside of Hux’s home for every day this week, and Hux’s resolve is wearing thin.

“Go away,” he spits out angrily. “Can’t you take a hint?”

“Can’t you let me in so we can talk? Please?”

Hux imagines how Ben must look, how his eyes are probably soft, puppy-like and pleading. He steals a glance at the comic book that’s on his nightstand, crumpled and torn save for the corner where Ben’s name is written. He huddles into a tighter ball, filled with shame at how much he still wants and aches for Ben.

Hux can’t keep the desperation from his voice. “Get out of here, Ben. If my father finds out you’ve been here—”

There’s a loud crash outside, and the walls outside Hux’s bedroom rattle. “Is that why you’re acting this way? Did your dad threaten you?”

 _No. He threatened_ you. Hux hears the growing concern in Ben’s voice, the slam and thud of something against the house, and he can only imagine that Ben must be going crazy with worry, and that he will stop at nothing in some poor, misguided attempt to save Hux.

_If you ever have contact with that filthy beast again, I will put a bullet in him and burn him at the stake myself._

“If you’ve ever cared about me, don’t come back,” Hux pleads. He pushes his hand against his mouth to stifle the sob that threatens to escape. The knuckles of his fist are a contrast to Ben’s sweet and yearning lips, and a piece of Hux dies at the thought that he can never feel the weight of their gentle strength on him again.

“You don’t mean that.” There’s a break in Ben’s voice though, a break that makes Hux think Ben might be questioning his own words. “No matter how much you push me away, I’ll never abandon you.”

Hux hates himself for what he’s about to do, but he’d hate himself more if anything happened to Ben.

“Don’t you get it, you stupid beast? I don’t ever want to see you again! You’re a  _werewolf_. You  _disgust_ me; I  _hate_ you!”

Hux chokes back his sobs as Ben lets out a mournful howl. He hunkers down, determined not to give in to that part of him that wants to fling open the door, to run into Ben’s arms, to whisper his apologies and console them both.

He keeps telling himself it’s for the best. But when Ben finally leaves, the loss cuts deep across Hux, filling his breaking heart with a despair greater than he could have possibly imagined.

**oOo**

As the alpha’s thickening cock plunges into him repeatedly, all Hux can think about is how  _fucking good_ it feels.

How fucking good  _he_ feels.

It’s as if a piece of him that’s been missing has suddenly been found, his inner omega rejoicing at being cared for even as the werewolf pounds into him relentlessly, punctuating the rapid thrusts with snarling, possessive nips. He feels the scrape of sharp teeth and fangs against the juncture of his shoulder and his neck, the place where his lifeforce flows, surging as if for the first time.

There’s a possibility that the bite may have drawn blood, because the alpha actually  _shudders,_ nose and mouth glued to Hux’s skin as the huge body tilts further into him. Its front legs steady Hux at the waist as Hux’s body thrums, copious slick easing the way, his walls aching and begging for the alpha’s knot.

He can’t believe that he’s ready for this—how much his body craves this particular alpha, but there’s a part of him that believes it’s not just his heat or the strong scent of their sex that’s making him feel this way. A part of him knows—the part of his heart that’s not driven by his biology and physicality, that this is something more.

It’s almost as if the alpha understands, when its frantic, rutting movements slow to a stop.

“No…” Hux moans, thrusting his ass back out, not beneath begging at this point. His asshole clenches; he feels so  _empty_ from the loss. “Please, alpha. Put it back in me, please…”

A large paw bats the sharp edge of Hux’s hip, dumping him unceremoniously onto his back, his head landing with a thunk against the cold ground. Before Hux can voice his outrage, the alpha has settled over him, and for the first time, Hux can see the werewolf in all its glory.

It’s lumbering and huge, its broad expanse of muscle and fur beyond powerful. The cock that juts out in front of him is easily twice as long as Hux’s favorite dildo and thicker than the circumference of his wrist. It’s heavily veined, and the tapered shape is made more prominent by the fact that the base is surrounded by an extra fold of skin that promises a huge, thick knot.

Hux swallows. He drags his eyes up to the werewolf’s face, startling when he sees its expression.

The were is tilting its head to the side. Its wide mouth, filled with rows of razor-sharp teeth and a huge, lolling tongue, is a distinct contrast to the pair of liquid, amber eyes that watch Hux back, filled with something akin to fondness and hope. It tugs at a memory that Hux has buried deep, but has never had the heart to completely destroy. But before he can give it any voice, the were nudges Hux so he’s flexed at the hips, the back of his legs resting against the were’s rock-hard chest, then re-enters Hux’s slick channel with a deafening roar.

The time for gentleness has passed, their actions driven by the need to rut and breed. Hux feels each drag, each stroke of the ridged length of the were’s massive cock against his walls. Soon, the were’s movements begin to stutter, its movements limited as the base of its prick begins to swell.

 _“Fuck…”_ Hux hisses as the expanding knot stretches his hole. It’s massive, the size of it almost unbearable, even for a pliant omega in heat. There’s a mixture of pain and pleasure as the knot catches on the rim, locking them in.

“Alpha, please!” Hux cries out. The were grunts in frustration, changing its angle while attempting another thrust. The movement hits something inside of Hux that makes him see stars, a blinding heat that spreads through his pelvis and groin and shoots straight through his dick.

Hux’s hips jerk in response and then he’s coming untouched, his prick splattering stripes of come over his belly and the remnants of his shirt.

“Shit,” Hux groans as he spurts once more, some of the pearly white liquid painting the were’s black fur.

The alpha seems to grin in response. It pushes Hux’s legs back then leans forward, caging him within its tall frame, hips rabbiting in short, quick movements. It’s so close that the heat of its breath marks Hux’s neck. As its fangs graze the surface of Hux’s omega gland, Hux’s eyes roll, delirious with need.

“Do it,” Hux pleads. He tries to twist his body, arching and baring his neck as well as he can in an act of submission. “Take me, alpha. Make me yours.”

The pain of the claiming bite shoots through Hux. The were keeps his jaws locked until the bite morphs into something else, pain dulling before blossoming into pleasure. The act of the bond causes Hux’s cock to stir again, and he cants his pelvis up and urges the alpha on until it too comes with a deafening howl.

“Fuuuck…” Hux is sore and jelly-limbed, but it doesn’t prevent him from feeling the way the alpha’s cock pulses, or the liquid heat that splashes inside him as the werewolf pumps him full of his come.

Eventually the werewolf releases his teeth from Hux’s neck. There’s a soft whine and then it’s licking Hux’s wound, then along his neck and shoulders. But even as Hux marvels at the intimacy of the gesture, it ends much too suddenly. He feels the alpha’s claws retract, teeth grow blunt, and skin turns smooth as the werewolf begins to shift.

**oOo**

The flush that comes over Hux is sudden and fierce. It’s the middle of winter, yet his clothes are damp, his face dewy and pink, the itch unbearable.

Perhaps he’s coming down with something. He’s been training hard; last weekend was spent mastering hand-to-hand combat and laying traps with his father in sub-zero temperatures.

“Mister Rax?” He raises his arm, but it’s shaking uncontrollably. Several of the students around him swivel their heads, nostrils flaring. “May I see the nurse? I...I think I’m sick.”

The omega takes in Hux’s appearance, his blue eyes widening in surprise. “Pack up your things and come with me immediately, Armitage.”

Hux shoves his books and pen into his rucksack. The sweat is pouring off his skin—the classroom feels like it’s a hundred degrees—and his pants are sticking to his seat. He knows he looks a mess. Even Mitaka—a beta who is the most polite, unobtrusive person Hux knows—is now openly staring.  

He barely makes it out the door when his teacher pulls a bottle out of his pocket and sprays Hux with it, pumping the top frantically.

“What?” Hux manages to splutter through the fog that’s settling over him. Whatever it is, it smells  _wrong,_ and his body is fighting the scent instinctively. “What are you doing?”

“Scent blocker,” Mister Rax says. “And don’t give me that look; you’ll thank me for it later. Do you have somewhere safe to go? Somewhere you can spend your heat?”

Hux’s head spins. Perhaps his mind is playing tricks; there’s no way he could have heard his teacher correctly.

He feels like bawling. “My heat? No...you’re mistaken, Mr. Rax. I’m an  _alpha.”_

“You… oh dear. You’re just now presenting.” Mister Rax shakes his head as he scuttles Hux down the hall. “You are an  _omega,_ Armitage. An omega is nothing to be ashamed of; in fact, with your intelligence and talent, you could be one of the most powerful ones around. But now is not the time for such a discussion. If we don’t get you into a safe space soon, there will be a rampage of undisciplined alphas and betas trying to lay claim to you.”

A river of slick soaks the back of Hux’s pants at the thought, the aching outline of his prick tenting his trousers.

“Oh my god,” he moans.

Mister Rax supports Hux under his shoulders. “The nurse’s office. We’ll have to get your father’s permission, but we can give you something to take the edge off. Once your heat is over, we can go over your choices for suppressants if both of you are agreeable.”

“Yes,” Hux croaks. The thought of being a slave to his heats, of being possibly mated to an asshole alpha who he doesn’t love, is horrifying. “I want them. Suppressants. After.”

The frightened look on the nurse’s face as they burst through his office says it all. Nurse Tashu quickly dons a mask, then helps Hux onto the narrow cot and thrusts a cup of chamomile tea into his hand.

“I’ve added an elixir of kava to the tea,” Tashu explains. “Since it’s not considered a medication, I’m allowed to give it to you until your father approves a prescription sedative.” He places a bottle of water and a bag of trail mix on the table beside the bed before scurrying out.

The tea soothes Hux’s parched throat, but does nothing for the uneasiness that coils in his gut. Through the haze of his lust, he’s aware of their hushed tones his teacher and the nurse share, as well as their sympathetic clucks:

_“...under the impression he was an alpha.”_

_“Poor boy.”_

_“...his father...I’m worried about him, Yupe. He comes into class with marks on his skin. It’s no secret that Brendol has been training Armitage to lead his hunters when he comes of age. If he should find out that the boy is an omega…”_

There’s a pause—too long, for Hux’s liking.

_“Omegas can be hunters, Gallius. You, of all people, know that your path is not determined solely by your biological status.”_

“I _know that, Yupe. But I’m concerned it is not a belief that is shared by his father.”_

The combination of the tea and Hux’s fever causes him to fall into a fitful sleep. An incomprehensible amount of time passes before he’s roused by the sound of his father’s angry voice, the booming, authoritative sound of  _alpha,_ of his  _father_ , causing Hux to sit up.

The metal door that separates Hux’s safe room from the rest of the office slams open.

“Get up,” Brendol grits out between his teeth. “We’re going home.”

The sweat and slick is pouring off Hux’s skin. “I need…” His head lolls; he can barely keep himself sitting on the edge of the bed. Nurse Tashu’s pained expression catches the corner of his eye. “Sedative,” he gasps, clutching his belly. “For the heat symptoms.”

His father’s face is unrecognizable in its fury. “Pathetic,” he spits. “It’s bad enough that you’re the only omega our family has ever known. You’ll ride out your heat without the assistance of artificial suppressants. If you want to be anything more than an omega whore, you’ll learn to deal with it without resorting to such enhancements.”

Hot tears flood Hux’s face as he stumbles to his feet, blindly following his father. Tashu runs over to wrap a blanket around Hux’s shaking body. It does little to mask the sweet, enticing scent that’s rolling off Hux in waves, but it gives him the illusion of dignity, what little of it he has left.

**oOo**

The moonlight is scattered through the branches of the trees crisscrossing the sky. It filters onto the earth, dappling the pale skin of the person who’s cradling Hux in his arms, his large hands trailing a slow path down Hux's side.

Hux pulls back to take a look at the alpha who’s claimed him, only to remember too late that they’re still tied.

“Oww,” he winces as the alpha huffs out a laugh. He pulls Hux close, hands aligning their hips as he lifts his head from where it was buried in Hux’s neck.

The alpha’s mane is as black as his fur, thick and gleaming. It falls in waves, framing a face that is as angular as it is beautiful, hard and soft, feral and human. He rubs a calloused thumb along the line of Hux’s lower lip, before caressing the slope of Hux’s chin.

“Armie,” he breathes.

“Ben?” Hux croaks. Something wet trickles onto his cheek, and Hux blinks furiously in an effort to hold back the rest of his tears. “It’s a Super Blood Wolf moon,” he says hysterically, embarrassed that after six years, this is the best he can come up with.

“One of our most sacred,” Ben agrees. “It makes sense that I would find you again tonight, of all nights.”

Hux shivers as Ben presses a kiss on his forehead. “Isn’t this your mating season? You could have ended up with anybody. Any available omega.”

“Not just any omega—or alpha or beta, for that matter. The pull of the Super Blood Wolf Moon calls out to true mates. It had to be you.” Ben leans forward, and this time when he kisses Hux on the mouth, there’s no awkward teeth or fumbling like their first. Instead it’s assured, soft and full, one that grows progressively more insistent, complete with a hint of tongue.

“Ben,” Hux sighs. It’s absolutely perfect, and if Ben’s mastered the art of kissing through repeated practice, Hux doesn’t want to know.

“There’s no one else,” Ben says as if reading Hux’s mind. “You were mine, from the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

“As you were mine.” When Hux says the words, he's positive of their truth.

Ben traces the delicate line of Hux's nose, the sharp lines of his cheeks. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Can’t say the same about you,” Hux snorts, indicating Ben’s muscular chest and rippled abs. The movement causes him to shift, and Ben’s knot, which has since deflated, finally allows Ben to slip out.

Ben bites his lip. “I train. A lot,” he clarifies as Hux laughs. He stares at Hux intently, and suddenly, Hux is aware of the thinness of his chest and the softness of his belly, at least compared to Ben’s.

He makes a move to burrow deeper against Ben’s chest, to hide from any scrutiny.

“Hux. There’s not a single part of you that I don’t like,” Ben murmurs. “You’re gorgeous. Perfect.” He smiles, and in that moment, the look he gives Hux is predatory. “Perfect for carrying our pups.”

“Yeah, well don’t hold your breath,” Hux sniffs. “I’ve other things I need to do first.” When Ben gives him a look, he softens. “Not that I wouldn’t want that eventually. With you.”

Now that the first wave of Hux’s heat is satiated, the winter air makes itself known. Hux’s bare legs are goose-fleshed, not only from the cold, but from the damp residue of sweat, slick, and come.

Ben looks around then hands Hux his coat and pants—what’s left of them, anyway—with a sheepish expression.

“Better than nothing,” he mumbles, a furious blush climbing his cheeks.

Hux finds himself laughing despite the ridiculousness of it all. Maybe he’ll just survive with how the feeling of being with Ben—of being _in_   _love_  with Ben—makes him warm all over. “How are you not freezing?” he asks as he slips on his jeans.

“I run at a higher temperature because of my rut, the shift, and the moon” Ben explains as he brushes off the stray leaves from his naked body. “Well, that, and my wolf is pretty stoked right now, because it’s found its mate.”

“Perhaps your pack leader will be lucky as well.” Hux’s mouth drops unhappily. “Shit...Ben, my father and his hunters are determined to kill Kylo Ren. We need to warn him. To warn the rest of your pack.”

Ben’s shoulders begin to shake. _“I’m_ Kylo Ren,” he chuckles. “It’s my wolf’s name—though it makes sense that your father never made the connection since he sees me as nothing more than an animal. I’ve been groomed for this role my whole life. To lead and protect my pack. To take care of the ones I love.” His gaze is unwavering as he looks meaningfully at Hux. “Including you.”

For once, Hux is at a loss for words. He knows the magnitude of what Ben’s professed, beyond the physical act of their bonding. He knows he can’t go back home, back to the idea of hunting creatures like Ben. But he also doesn’t know how he’d fit into Ben’s world.

“I want that, more than you know,” Hux says slowly. “But I know nothing about your clan, or your culture. What if your pack doesn't accept me?”

“They’ll accept you because you’re brilliant and my mate,” Ben says gently. “And we’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

The sound of a branch breaking underfoot echoes through the air.

“Armitage!”

Hux whips around as Rae and his father appear in his line of sight.

Brendol’s eyes are filled with revulsion. “It figures you couldn’t be relied on to use your weapon and cunning to bring down a despicable were,” his father sneers. “At least your omega status is good for something.”

“I—” Hux stops. He’s tired of defending himself, of excusing himself to his father. A prickle of fear ripples through him for Ben’s safety however, when his mate lets loose a threatening growl.

Brendol doesn’t hide his contempt. “An abhorrent perversion, even for a beast. Yet you lie with it, Armitage; let it  _have_ you. Have you no shame?”

Ben steps forward, his gold eyes flashing unnaturally in the darkness. Hux can feel the anger that vibrates through Ben—the warning that rumbles through his chest, the way his body seems to fight the wolf that’s threatening to come out. “I’ve nothing to be ashamed of,” Ben says dangerously, each word grit through a mouthful of teeth. “And neither does Armie.”

“You presume to speak for _my son?”_ Brendol turns and directs his disgust at Hux. Expressions flicker across Brendol’s face like the tail end of a film reel against the light, transforming from sadness to regret then unfettered _rage._ “Your mother died for you. And for what? For a boy who’s nothing but a disgrace to the family name. Too skinny, too sensitive. Too delicate to do what is required.” His lips curl cruelly. “I’ve given you all the tools to become the greatest hunter of your generation. Instead, you’ve chosen to whore yourself out, as nothing more than a lowly beast’s omega.”

Hux flinches as Ben snarls. He’s used to the slurs but it’s beyond cruel to bring his mother’s fate into this, even considering the source. So many things lay on the tip of his tongue; he toys with the idea of placing the blame right back at his father’s feet—at his father’s aspirations of grandeur, for being the face of the Arkanisian army, for bringing his young family to this strife-torn land in the first place.

Hux refrains though, in deference to his mother. He won’t sully her memory by dipping in the same pool as his father’s poison.

“Mother made a decision based on love, something which you know nothing about. I can only hope that I have a fraction of her bravery and selflessness and none of your bigotry or callousness. If you’d ever listened to me—looked at me as a person—you’d know that I _never_ wanted to be a hunter. And while I might be an omega, I will never be anyone’s whore, even for your twisted ambitions.”

Brendol’s lips thin and his expression goes flat. “You are no son of mine. So be it, then.” He hoists his rifle into the air and Hux’s heart squeezes when he sees the barrel of the gun trained on himself.

Hux feels the vibrations of rage coming from Ben, the sounds of his body snapping and adjusting to his shift to his wolf form. Even if Ben were to attack, however, his father would never miss hitting either of them, not at this distance. But Hux would rather die with his voice being heard for once than live while hiding in silence.

“If that means being nothing like you, father, then I’ve made the right choice.”

There’s a sharp crack, followed by a heavy thud as the earth rumbles under Hux’s feet. He looks up to see Rae standing over his father’s crumpled body, the butt of her own rifle point skyward, its wooden handle streaked in red.

“Rae,” Hux croaks.

“I’ve waited far too long to do that,” she says with more than a hint of satisfaction. She glances at Ben, who is morphing back into his human form with considerable effort. “You’re so much stronger than you know, Armitage. Your mother would be proud.”

His father’s boot is twisted at an awkward angle. Hux stares, surprised at how detached he feels.

“What happens next?” he sighs to no one in particular.

“That’s for you to decide, isn’t it?” Rae says gently. “At least you can choose without the weight of your father’s fate on your hands.” She looks pointedly at Ben. “Or on your friend’s.”

Ben shudders through the remainder of his transformation. Hux watches, at a loss for words as his mate takes a tentative step towards Rae, his claws sheathed, fangs retracted, naked and human. She meets Ben's curious gaze, her hand firm on her gun, but she doesn't move when he leans in subtly, nostrils flaring.

Ben nods then takes a step back, his head bowed. “Thank you. I can tell that Hux considers you his pack. And that you care for him very much."

"She was the only one," Hux whispers. "Until you."

"Though our sides are at war, I shall do what I can to shield you from harm.”

Rae bends over and uses the corner of Brendol’s jacket to clean off the stains on her gun. “I appreciate your offer, young Skywalker, but I’m the least of your worries.” She keeps her focus on Ben, but Hux knows her words are for him as well. “I have connections in Jakku. They’ve been pushing me to come and join their organization for a while, but I never felt it was the right time. That is, until now.” She nudges Brendol’s limp body with her foot. “From the look of things, I’d say you have at least twenty minutes before he’s in any shape to get up.”

Hux rushes forward, oblivious to his half-dressed state as he envelops Rae in a fierce hug. “You carried me to safety when I couldn’t walk. And now you’re giving me the power to run.”

“Go,” she whispers against his head, the scent of her one of the few comforting things he remembers from his childhood. “Go be the person you were meant to be, Armitage.”

“I’ll miss you.”

She puts a finger to his lips. “Be yourself. Be happy. That’s all that your mother or I have ever wanted.” She turns around, giving him one last, fond glance before making her way past the underbrush and disappearing behind the thicket of trees.

Hux takes a deep breath. The coldness of the early morning, once numbing, fills every inch of his lungs, its sharpness making him feel alive.

Ben takes Hux’s hand in his. “Join me?” he asks.

A soft smile breaks over Hux's face as he remembers that late summer day six years ago when they first met. “Make me,” he says, loosening his grip and challenging Ben once more in the time-honored mating tradition of a chase.

He doesn’t spare a last look at his father, who has occupied too much of his emotions and his life. He takes off, running through the woods as the first traces of sunrise peep through the trees. The twilight softens the forest’s harsh and barren lines, and Hux barrels forward, the tattered strips of his clothing fluttering around him as Ben trails behind, shifting into his more powerful and streamlined form. Hux knows that Ben’s allowing him to revel in his freedom, to enjoy his moment of victory alone. But he also knows that Ben can be at his side at a moment’s notice. And although Hux doesn’t know what the future holds, for the first time in forever, he feels hopeful and free.

**.Fin.**

 

**Author's Note:**

> **Come say "hi" on Tumblr: [nerdherderette](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/nerdherderette)


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